Guest Post: 6 Purr-fect Cat Movies Based on Books by Vanessa Morgan

Do you think cats rule the internet? Wait until you see how they dominate the silver screen—especially when their movies are inspired by books. 

To celebrate the release of my book Meow! Cats in Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy Movies, I'm diving into six unforgettable feline flicks that started as books.

Meow! dives much further into these six films and many others, with many behind-the-scenes insights, fun facts, and plenty of feline flair. It's the ultimate guide to all things cat cinema.

6 Purr-fect Cat Movies Based on Books

By Vanessa Morgan

1) Kiki's Delivery Service (1989)

Based on the novel by Eiko Kadono, Kiki's Delivery Service is a charming coming-of-age tale about a young witch navigating independence. Kiki’s black cat, Jiji, is her constant companion, offering sarcastic quips, loyal support, and comic relief throughout her delivery adventures. Jiji isn’t just a sidekick; he represents Kiki’s inner voice, grappling with doubts and confidence as she grows. Studio Ghibli’s adaptation perfectly captures the heart of this story, with Jiji stealing the spotlight as one of cinema’s most lovable feline characters.

 2) Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End (2024)

This recent horror film, adapted from the novel by Manel Loureiro, takes the zombie apocalypse genre to a chilling new level—and a cat plays a surprisingly pivotal role. In a world overrun by the undead, the protagonist’s tabby is a loyal companion that offers comfort and a sense of normalcy in a world descending into chaos. The cat’s presence in Apocalypse Z highlights the human need for connection and hope, even in the darkest times.

 3) The Three Lives of Thomasina (1963)

Based on Paul Gallico’s heartwarming novel, this Disney classic tells the story of a little girl, her veterinarian father, and their beloved cat, Thomasina. Narrated by the cat herself, the film explores her three “lives” as she connects the fractured family and helps them rediscover love and compassion. Thomasina’s role is both magical and deeply emotional, embodying themes of forgiveness and healing.

 

4) Morgiana (1972)

Adapted from Alexander Grin’s gothic novel Jessie and Morgiana, this Czech psychological thriller is a tale of envy and deception, where a mysterious feline plays a hauntingly symbolic role. The feline is a representation of guilt and justice (much like in Edgar Allan Poe's short story “The Black Cat”), mirroring the sinister undertones of a sibling rivalry that spirals into murder.

5) Felidae (1994)

Based on Akif Pirinçci’s novel, this German animated neo-noir film is anything but your typical cartoon. Francis, the feline protagonist, is a detective who uncovers a sinister conspiracy while investigating gruesome cat murders. Intelligent, gritty, and surprisingly philosophical, Felidae explores themes of morality, power, and survival, all through the eyes of its feline characters. 

6) The Cat (1992)

This Hong Kong cult classic, adapted from Ni Kuang’s book series, blends sci-fi, horror, and martial arts into a bizarre yet entertaining cinematic experience. The story centers on an alien cat and its human allies as they fight a malevolent extraterrestrial force. The Cat is without a doubt the craziest cat movie ever made.

Final Thoughts

Cats have captured our hearts in books, movies, and just about everything else! Luckily, these six cat movies based on books are just the beginning of what’s out there. Whether you’re a fan of spooky stories, sci-fi escapades, or charming magical journeys, there’s no shortage of feline-inspired entertainment. Plus, you’ll find all of these films—and over 200 other cat-centric tales—in Meow! Cats in Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy Movies, your ultimate guide to the world of feline cinema.

Now it’s your turn—what’s your favorite cat movie or book? Is there a feline hero or literary kitty with a special place in your heart? Share your pick in the comments!

About Vanessa Morgan

VANESSA MORGAN is the editor of When Animals Attack: The 70 Best Horror Movies with Killer Animals, Strange Blood: 71 Essays on Offbeat and Underrated Vampires Movies, Evil Seeds: The Ultimate Movie Guide to Villainous Children, and Meow! Cats in Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy Movies. She also published one cat memoir (Avalon) and four supernatural thrillers (Drowned Sorrow, The Strangers Outside, A Good Man, and Clowders). Three of her stories became movies. She also introduces movie screenings at several European cinemas and film festivals and is a programmer for the Offscreen Film Festival in Brussels. When she is not writing, you will probably find her eating out or taking photos of felines for her website, Traveling Cats.

 

Legend (1985) #movie

A young man must stop the Lord of Darkness from both destroying daylight and marrying the woman he loves.

Every once in a while I have that one film or book or something or other that I've been meaning to read or watch for simply ages that I've just never gotten round to. Legend, the 1985 film directed by Ridley Scott, was one of them.

I've watched pretty much all the important 1980s fantasy films – Labyrinth, The Neverending Story, The Dark Crystal, Willow, Highlander, Ladyhawke... Just not Legend. And always, my husband said to me, "No, really, it's crap. Don't."

I never listen to him.

I eventually got my way to see the film on Netflix. I regret that I will not be able to get the 125 minutes of my life back. As much as I do attempt to give films the benefit of the doubt, I couldn't help but wonder, the entire time that I was watching, whether Scott and his crew had been taking some really mean hallucinogenics while in production.

Yes, this is a quest – young dude Jack (Tom Cruise in a really, really risqué golden tunic that leaves very little to the imagination) goes to rescue the princess Lily. There are unicorns. Tim Curry, of course, steals the show as what appears to be Hellboy's grandpappy. There are dwarves too. And Tinkerbell. Oh, did I mention unicorns?

In fact, everything hinges on the unicorns that will act as a sacrifice to ring in Eternal Darkness. Muhahahahahahaha.

Nothing makes sense while our intrepid, nattily garbed young hero prances about in his gilded togs waving a sword he clearly has no idea how to use. There was one, weird scene where a dark Lily dances with the Evil Overlord, which I thought was quite pretty and surreal, but as for the rest – I suspect it will make more sense to three-year-olds who've grown up on a fare of The Magic Roundabout and Teletubbies.

And seriously? What the ever-living fuck was with all the glitter? Glitter EVERYWHERE? The cast and production crew must've found glitter in their pubes for weeks after. Glitter is insidious that way. I suspect this film must've resulted global '85-'86 Glitter Shortage.

The blurb sums up this hot mess of a fantasy cinema entirely. I'd rather watch YouTube clips spliced together from the Tim Curry scenes again than ever endure this disjointed, cobbled-together "let's attempt epic fantasy though we don't have the first clue how the hell to make it work".

I guess if you're tripping off your tits, this film will be amazeballs, but alas I'll not be tripping off my tits again anytime soon and life's too short to endure something that left me feeling a whole lot of what the fuck.

Velvet Goldmine (1998) #movies

In 1984, British journalist Arthur Stuart investigates the career of 1970s glam superstar Brian Slade, who was heavily influenced in his early years by hard-living and rebellious American singer Curt Wild. (IMDB)

I admit that I rewatched Velvet Goldmine in the wake of David Bowie's passing. It was purely out of nostalgia. This was also one of the few films I saw on the big screen way back when it first came out, possibly with an ex of mine during a time when we ourselves thought we were terribly glam wearing makeup and being all gothic and beauteous.

So, yeah, there's a big pile of nostalgia attached to this.

I wasn't a Bowie fan back then, however now I realise what an impact his music and style had on the goth scene – and how most of the bands that I look up to now were heavily influenced by the man. Glam rock was never quite my thing but I've gained an appreciation for it in my dotage.

I'll also admit that my interest in this film is very much for the visual elements (beyond perving at Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Ewan McGregor. Gosh darnit, I admit it. This film is all about perving at those two. I am a shallow, vapid creature who doesn't much care for Christian Bale.

There's really not much of a story, if you aren't dazzled by fangrrrling. Singer Brian Slade has an affair with guitarist Curt Wild. Everything goes south in a narcotic haze and then Slade fakes his own death at the height of his fame – and everyone's pissed off at him and his career nose-dives. Then there's some sort of hush-hush cover-up with intimations about a man who fell to earth a-la Bowie while the dull-as-dead-woodlice reporter tries to find out what happened to his hero way after the fact. And everyone damaged by Slade has his or her turn to Bare All The Uglies. There are even Men In Black. We never find out why there are Men In Black. And I'm fine with that. Really I am. Save that I don't think these magical elements were played up enough.

(There're also those who say that the film hints at Bowie's connection with Iggy Pop – I'd rather say they're inspired by the two. And the next person who sagely advises me of this fact can go blow themselves – I've heard that tired pony trotted out by folks so often I'm like meh. Tell me something new.)

Granted, there are magical interludes in the film – music videos within the narrative – that most certainly add a glamorous touch (and for those alone make this film worth watching). Yet at the end, once the glitter and grease paint has smudged off, and the sun has robbed night of her splendour, we're left with the ugliness of the people in the story. And perhaps that is the story – that we paint our faces to be what we're not and in that way become trapped. We create an ideal we can never live up to. The fairytale prince is ephemeral. He is not who you want him to be. And he's bound to disappoint you.

In the end, he is just as sad as running mascara after you've spent the last half of the night talking to God on the Big White Telephone.

Okay, I'm getting all heavy-handed with my clichés etc. This is a pretty film. I'll take it out, dust it off, and watch it once in a while just to feel that sick pulse of enjoying pretty boys wearing make-up shagging and prancing around in too-tight pants. Because it makes me happy-sad, and reminds me of my own stupid young adult years when I wanted something I could never have. That wasn't even real.

I'll leave you with that. You probably won't enjoy the film for the same reasons I do, nor feel disappointed with it for the same reasons I do. Maybe it's also because the film reminds me of who I never got to be. And also that the dream invariably turns to ashes in your mouth.

PS, I'm also really not in a very intellectual mood of present, so feel free to disregard everything I've written here as the ramblings of a middle-aged maggot.

The Lone Ranger #movie #review

As a wee sprog I remember watching The Lone Ranger on telly. South Africa was quite behind in the whole TV revolution, but I recall that particular show with great fondness and yes, my friends and I sometimes played Cowboys and Indians, which generally involve someone getting tied up and the rest of us making an awful racket.

I also remember having little plastic cowboys and Indian toys (other kids had those little green army toys and jeeps). Nope, I played with little cowboys and Indians. I think I really just dug the horses, and loved pretending to ride.

So it was with a fair amount of nostalgia that I looked forward to seeing what Johnny Depp would do with the Tonto role in the renewed The Lone Ranger. From the outside this looked like another Jack Sparrow but with warpaint, and as could be expected, Tonto completely outshines the rest of the characters.

There's been a fair amount of burrum-harrum and errrrrr blegh about Johnny Depp being seen as racist by donning redface, so to speak. Though he does have Native American heritage somewhere along the line, he's still very much perceived as a white man taking a native role. My feelings on the matter are complicated. I can see where folks who're angry are coming from, but on the other hand this film exists as a celebration of Western films as a whole.

The plot itself is nothing new; it's filled with archetypes like the brothel madame with a big heart, the evil railroad baron, the honourable if rather dead sheriff. And the little quirks ("There's something not right about that horse") were made of teh awesum. If you've watched many Westerns throughout your life, you'll appreciate The Lone Ranger for what it is: a homage to a particular brand of cinema.

So far as the recent rash of superhero films have gone, The Lone Ranger has been a breath of fresh air for its utter delight in the genre; what saves it is the fact that it doesn't take itself seriously. Yes, there's depth and breadth for some social commentary – and there's no escaping the issues of how the Europeans murdered the Native Americans.

As a South African, I'm acutely aware of racial issues; this is inescapable. There's a part of me that wishes we'd see more representative film offerings brought out by Hollywood (I mean, hello, as a woman I'm BEGGING for strong female leads). For what this film is, I feel Disney has done okay. But I also wish to view this through the lens as entertainment.

If this film does cause you to stop and think a bit, that's good. If you hated it because of the inherent issues of the subject matter, that's also fine. I've decided to just enjoy it for what it is, and overall it was a thoroughly entertaining Western. It doesn't break fresh ground but it made me laugh, and it engaged my attention. I couldn't ask for more.

Besides, Johnny Depp was in top form.

Let's just pray they don't feck things up by making a sequel, or that at least if they do, they pay attention to narrative structure so we don't have to apply the law of diminishing returns. The fourth Pirates of the Caribbean movie was forgettable, and not even Depp's presence could save that sinking ship.

World War Z #movie #review

Okay, I have totally got a thing for post-apocalyptic stories; there's something about destroying the world as we know it and imagining how survivors will pull civilisation up by its bootstraps and begin again. Granted, post-Z stories are still pretty hot property right now, and most of my friends have been watching The Walking Dead. I've watched a bit of season #1 but to be honest, I got a bit meh halfway through. But that's just me, and I'm an odd one when it comes to TV etc. A series either grabs me by the short and curlies or I let it go just there.

A few years ago I picked up a copy of World War Z by Max Brooks. "Read that book, my friend told me. You won't regret it." So I did, and probably finished reading the entire thing within days. Wow. What a ride. Basically, the book is a fictitious collection of first-person accounts looking back at the zombie outbreak that almost wiped out the human species. This totally took the typical zombie outbreak story to another level examining the broader implications but also at human behaviour, and what makes a hero. (Sometimes the most unlikely people, according to Brooks). I'm not going to go all mushy with "triumph of the human spirt blah blah blah" but yeah... That.

So... [deep breath] Onto the film. First thing I'm going to say, the film is NOT the book. If you read the book, forget you ever read it. If you're looking for the book, you'll see a few small touches but that's it. The film is inspired by the book. In the loosest sense. Oh yes. There is Brad Pitt. And plenty of feel-good humanitarian social commentary shoe-horned in. But I don't mind either Brad or his soapbox. Because, yeah, this was a tight film.

Essentially, our protagonist, Gerry Lane, is a UN investigator who's retired, but his boss calls him into active duty when the zombie plague blooms into its full savage glory. And these zombies *are* savage. There's no slow slide into zombiefication. You get bitten and about a quarter of a minute later you've turned into a teeth-chattering, biting frenzy machine. And if you want to hold onto your grey matter, you had better RUN.

Okay, so I don't do zombie films. Yes, though I write horror, I struggle with zombie films. George A Romero does me in. Though I loved Planet Terror and Shaun of the Dead, I just couldn't sit still. Anyone suffering through a zombie movie will me will probably derive more entertainment thanks to my squirming and freaking out than the actual film.

I was in top form watching World War Z. Really. I was pretty much tap-dancing my anxiety. Yes, it's only a movie, but still... There's probably a lot wrong with the film when it comes to the screenplay. Perhaps the cyclic predictability: Gerry goes somewhere, someone does something wrong and BAM! THE ZOMBIES ARE COMING ERMAHGERD WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIEEEEEE!

Brad must've gotten super fit by the time he finished shooting this one. Gerry Lane spends A LOT of time running (or his extras did). Then again, I don't blame him. These are some of the nastiest zombies I've seen in cinema for a long time.

Stuff that's unlikely—like strapping magazines to your forearms to stop the damn things from biting you... I'm not sure that's fool proof but jawellnofine. To give Gerry some credit, he didn't stick around long enough to test that theory to the full.

Mostly, the horrifying fascination with watching a pandemic outbreak of zombiefication goes all the way through this story, accompanied by the claustrophobic realisation that the characters have no safe haven, nowhere they can hole up that is ultimately protected. The zombies will get there in the end.

There were times where I felt the writers laid on the "I'm doing this to save my family bit" a little too heavily but this was mitigated by the relentless pace... You just don't get time to draw breath and worry too much about the fact that the sad wife is left at home with the brood of kidlets.

My final verdict: Yes, watch this if you're looking for something that's jam-packed full of loud explosions and people who're running for their lives in a kind of macabre treasure hunt. The clock is ticking, and time is running out. That is all. World War Z is a breathless race and if you don't think too hard about the stuff that's implausible, you're in for totally satisfying entertainment. Oh, yes, and there is Brad Pitt. He might be a little older but eish, my bru, I still dig him.

Movie Night: Thor #1 and Fright Night 2: New Blood

The husband thing and I took Friday night off with some mindless entertainment, and let me tell you that you don't get more mindless than our two choices: Thor #1 and Fright Night 2: New Blood.

Thor was my choice. I'll admit that I was moved out of pure curiosity because I'd watched The Avengers not so long ago and even though I was dead cold sober found myself incapable of following the plot. My main gripe about The Avengers was that it suffered from what I term as "Too Much Awesome" (iow too many Mary Sue and Marty Stu characters).

So in essence, lots of loud explosions, wholesale destruction, and folks posing in cool costumes, with very little work done with story telling and actual character development (because of course we don't need any of that stuff when we have thousands of dollars to blow on CGI). I got about 10 minutes into The Avengers and realised I had absolutely no idea what was happening or even *why* characters were behaving in a certain way.

(Yes, looking at you, Loki. There are easier ways to sow discord than allowing yourself to be captured.)

But getting back to Thor. My final verdict is that Kenneth Branagh held it together remarkably well with a rubbish script. And seeing the arrogant little shit Thor getting hit by a car not once but twice really warmed my heart. I even giggled.

Loki, however, despite the fact that Hiddles as absolutely adorbs and I want to squish him, acts remarkably short-sighted for someone who's supposedly the god of mischief and discord. And the daddy issues. [sighs... shakes head]

And Odin supposedly just slipping off into a too-convenient coma for now apparent reason that's ever properly explained? Or the fact that there are apparently other ways in or out of Asgard but there's that big fuss at the end when they destroy Bifrost? Oh, and that rather literal deus ex machina. Why do I get the idea the writers had no idea how to save that scene?

Ag jawellnofine. Don't mind me getting my knickers in a twist. My inner editor is having conniption fits at this point. Thor was still better than enduring some dumbass romcom or being forced to watch cricket.

People, this is why I get agitated when I hear they're probably going to violate adapt The Sandman for screen.

Now, onto Fright Night 2: New Blood. Basically, they took the exact same plot as the first reboot starring the rather delicious Colin Farrell and David Tennant, but they made our fanged friend a woman. Namely the rather luscious Jaime Murray (who is very, very delicious in this role).

(The reboot of the first movie was totally stupidly awesome B-grade horror pulp, loads of fun to watch.)

Then they take the myth of Elizabeth Bathory, and they completely ham it up with some sort of bizarre prophecy involving sacrifice of virgin blood. Then throw in more improbable character motivation and behaviour than you can shake a stick at...

Sorry... I was too busy ogling Jaime and thinking about which characters I'd like to cast her as in my novels.

So, if you like the idea of watching a naked and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous Jaime bathing in blood and biting people, you can't go wrong with this film. But not much else goes right with it. The husband thing says that the set dressing and cinematography is good, so yes, this is a pretty film. But as for the rest... It's pretty awful and you might want to gouge your eyes out at the end for some of the illogical, senseless twists.